


(stumbling over words as) over cobblestones

by summerstorm



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Plot What Plot, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is weird," Bonnie says, glancing down like there's enough space between their bodies to glimpse anything. Jeremy props himself up on his fist to make some room and reaches down to push his jeans further down his legs. She should be able to look if she wants to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(stumbling over words as) over cobblestones

**Author's Note:**

> Title (translated/adapted) from Baudelaire.

"This is weird," Bonnie says, glancing down like there's enough space between their bodies to glimpse anything. Jeremy props himself up on his fist to make some room and reaches down to push his jeans further down his legs. She should be able to look if she wants to.

"It," he begins, frowning, eyes trained on her face, "is weird, yeah." It's a totally empty line and he winces when he hears himself say it, but it makes her smile, for some reason, so it's worth the _that was such a stupid thing to say_ moment.

He wonders, fleetingly, if it would be less weird for her if he'd been wearing underwear when her hand sneaked into his pants. Probably not. She would've eventually gotten to his dick anyway; the only difference would have been an extra step. It could even have extended the awkwardness. Because Bonnie—Bonnie's great, but for a powerful, kick-ass witch, she's really, really shy.

His fingers are still wet with her, and it's not even the first time they've been, or the first time he's brought her off like that, or the first time she's tried to reciprocate. She's never gotten this far before, though, which was equal parts frustrating—not that he let her know that—and amusing until five minutes ago, when she found his cock inside his pants and felt him out with outstretched fingers before wrapping them around him. That's when he went from finding her reluctance kind of cute to realizing with a startled moan that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone else jerk him off.

No one's done that in a while, and her hand feels so small compared to his, and kind of unpredictable. She touches him in this way that's curious and reticent at the same time, her grip a little loose and her rhythm completely inconsistent, and it's still only a few strokes before he has to start deliberately holding back.

Bonnie's eyes are narrowed and still directed downwards, her bottom lip between her teeth. He doesn't think anyone's looked at his dick this much before. He follows her gaze for a moment, and notices her open pants, her bare stomach, her shirt bundled just under her bra. She's stroking him towards her body, the head of his cock brushing skin every now and then, leaving barely perceptible gleams of precome on her.

He takes in a sharp breath and forces himself to look up. He takes a second to compose himself, but before he can manage that, he blurts out, "If we stay like this I'm gonna come on you."

It's not a warning—it's more like a notification, like they should maybe move if she doesn't want to have to borrow Elena's clothes or go home with come on her pants—but it kind of sounds like one. He sees her eyes widen, her mouth fall a little open.

There's surprise in her expression, some new reluctance in the slowing motion of her hand, but there's also a certain amount of horniness there that he doesn't expect to see until he sees it.

"Okay," she says, letting go of him. She goes to wipe her hand on the bedspread, but then she just taps her fingers on it. "Okay, yeah, maybe we should— What should I—"

"No, I'll just—give me a second." He kneels up, and then he pulls his shirt off over his head and rolls onto his back beside her. Bonnie moves to follow, but then she just stays there, propped up on her elbows, one of her shoulders sticking up higher than the other, and looks at him like now it's awkward to crawl over him. He smiles at her, easy, wraps a hand around her waist.

Her eyes track the movement of his arm, first, and look up, her chin rising and falling once, lips slightly parted. Then she presses them together, nodding quick and jittery, and turns to lie on her side.

She reaches for him again without prompting, surer this time. As she swipes her thumb over the head, she says, "So what does it usually take to get you off?"

His eyes roll back in his head, and he can't even tell if it's having her hand back on him or hearing her say that that does it. Probably a little of both. "That's a good start," he says, the words strangled, half of them coming out as a whisper. She smirks up at him, and he adds, "It's really not gonna take a long—" He cuts himself off. "Hold—hold on tighter. You can be rougher, it's—" He takes in air, a brief breath through his nose. When he finishes, "It's good," it sounds slightly more composed than before.

"Okay," she says again, slow but clear, her tone laced with an edge of mockery Jeremy can't bring himself to care about, "I can do that." She squeezes his dick for a moment, making him gasp, but then her grasp turns a little harder, firm, determined.

She starts jerking him in earnest, looking intently at his face, so fucking focused, and he only has a second to realize how much more exposed he feels now than when she was staring at his cock before he's coming all over her hand and his stomach. She strokes him through it, slower, softer, until he reaches for her wrist.

She looks up at him and takes her hand back a fraction, idly saying, "So..."

"Weird?" he says with an amused half smile, echoing what she said earlier. She brushes her fingertips against his stomach, running them absently through the streaks of come there. He grabs his shirt to clean it off, keeping it in his fist until she stops touching him and reaches for it to wipe her hand.

A soft humming noise breaks the silence; she sneaks another glance at him. It seems to take her some effort to keep her eyes on him, but she manages it, and she presses her lips together to hold back a little smirk that's noticeable anyway, in the corners of her mouth in her eyes. She says, "Kind of hot, actually."

He snorts a laugh and turns on his side to face her. "Yeah?" he says.

"Sure." She shrugs nonchalantly, letting her head fall on the pillow. Her composure lasts about three seconds before her mouth breaks into a smile, a little laugh falling from her throat. "I'd do it again," she says. Her voice comes out easy now, unaffected, like she's talking about playing baseball or trying a new drink.

He raises his eyebrows. "Yeah? I'm glad," he says, because he can't think of anything else to say, can't think of anything to do that isn't looking at her. Her bottom lip's trapped between her teeth again, and her gaze is unsteady on his face, flicking from his eyes to other spots and back to his eyes again. It's not unlike the way she looked when she started touching him, only now he's not too far gone to distract her from freaking out.

He cups her jaw with his hand, thumb stroking her cheek. When he leans in, she lets go of her lip, opening her mouth, and her eyes close when he kisses her.


End file.
